


Our Birthday

by dgalerab



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthday Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:39:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgalerab/pseuds/dgalerab
Summary: “What? I just wanted to ask if you wanted to get together for my birthday.”“At least,” Kamasaki says, “say our birthday.”“Oh, is yours coming up?”





	Our Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skittidyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittidyne/gifts).



> Skitty wanted KamaFuta and here we are.

The second Kamasaki’s phone goes off, he knows exactly what is waiting for him the second he picks up. Futakuchi is hardly a punctual person, but in this, he’s like clockwork.

He picks up, already scowling. “What?”

“ _If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re not happy to hear from me,”_ Futakuchi drawls.

“Just do it,” Kamasaki sighs, leaning on the fridge with on hand.

 _“What? I just wanted to ask if you wanted to get together for my birthday_.”

“ _At least_ ,” Kamasaki says, “say _our_ birthday.”

“ _Oh, is yours coming up?”_

“Fine. _My_ birthday.”

“ _When was that again?”_

“You know damn well when my birthday is, that’s why you always call on the 7th even though yours is the 10th.”

“ _Just thinking ahead.”_

Kamasaki drops his forehead onto the fridge. “I hate you,” he mutters.

 _“What are you doing tomorrow?_ ” Futakuchi asks, and Kamasaki can just imagine him, leaning back in his chair with that smug look on his face, probably twirling a pen between his fingers.

“You better bring me a damn cake,” Kamasaki growls, hanging up.

-X-

Futakuchi certainly does get as far as bringing a cake _box_. Kamasaki eyes him suspiciously as he takes it from him, opening it up slowly. It’s loaded with monaka, and Kamasaki raises his eyebrow at Futakuchi.

“White bean paste,” Futakuchi says.

“You got me my favorite,” Kamasaki says, slowly.

“Is it?” Futakuchi asks, tossing his coat haphazardly on the hook and prancing into Kamasaki’s apartment with a stupid grin.

“Ha,” Kamasaki says, taking the cake box to the table. “You know my favorite food.”

“Happy coincidence,” Futakuchi insists, poking around Kamasaki’s kitchen for the sour gummies he knows Kamasaki’s gotten him.

“You like me,” Kamasaki says, wrapping his arms around Futakuchi’s waist and pulling him back.

“Just your muscles,” Futakuchi says, squeezing Kamasaki’s biceps experimentally. “Speaking of which, have you been working out more for my birthday?”

“Tch,” Kamasaki mutters. “Please.”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t.”

“You really know me, senpai.”

“You know, maybe for my birthday, you could say senpai like you actually mean it,” Kamasaki growls.

“It’s your birthday?” Futakuchi says with a theatric gasp. “But it’s _my_ birthday.”

“That’s it,” Kamasaki says, whirling Futakuchi around and slamming him against the fridge. “I’m going to teach you some manners.”

“But what if I said I wanted sappy,  gross sex for my birthday?” Futakuchi says, before Kamasaki can shove his tongue down Futakuchi’s throat to shut him up.

Kamasaki narrows his eyes at him. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re trying to worm out of something,” Kamasaki says.

“I am not.”

“Uhuh. What’s your play?”

“I… have… feelings…” Futakuchi says, slowly. “Sometimes.”

There’s a long, long silence between the two of them. Kamasaki still has Futakuchi pressed to the fridge, hands around his wrists. The way he’s pressed forward and the way Futakuchi is looking at him makes it seem like Futakuchi is actually notably shorter than him. There’s just a slight, _slight_ blush under the faint dusting of freckles over Futakuchi’s nose.

“You’re serious,” he says.

“No,” Futakuchi says, ducking out of his grip. “Just buying enough time to find where you hid my candy.” He stands on a chair and fishes around on top of the cabinet, grinning back victoriously when he pulls out a large bag of gummies. “You really went all out, huh?”

“It’s not your birthday yet,” Kamasaki says. He’s pretty damn sure Futakuchi actually was serious, but whatever vulnerability Kamasaki found, it’s gone now. “It’s my birthday.”

“I got you your favorite, didn’t I?” Futakuchi says, pulling the bag of gummies open.

“Ha! I knew you knew it was my favorite!” he says.

Futakuchi makes a patronizing face at him. “Congratulations. You can recognize your own favorite food.”

Kamasaki throws a fork at him.

-X-

“You staying over until your birthday?” Kamasaki asks, sitting on the bed while Futakuchi finishes up in the shower.

“Yeah,” Futakuchi says, tossing the towel he’d been drying his hair with onto the bed.

Kamasaki tosses it onto the floor. “You’ll soak the sheets,” he grumbles.

“Like we won’t have to change the sheets anyway,” Futakuchi says, settling between his knees. “Senpai.”

Kamasaki tugs his fingers through his hair. It’s probably the softest part of Futakuchi. “Is that you trying to mean it?”

“Sen _pai,_ ” Futakuchi says, nuzzling at the front of Kamasaki’s boxers.

“Trying was a strong word, wasn’t it,” Kamasaki sighs.

Futakuchi starts mouthing at the edges of Kamasaki’s erection with a lazy, “ _Sen_ pai.”

“Just suck it.”

His boyfriend grins, fingers hooking into the elastic of Kamasaki’s boxers, tugging them down so that they’re still awkwardly around his ankles. He pushes his nose into Kamasaki’s balls and takes a deep breath.

“Gross,” Kamasaki murmurs.

“They’re your balls,” Futakuchi responds, trailing his bottom lip along Kamasaki’s length until it slips off the tip with a small pop.

Kamasaki tugs at his hair gently. “No one asked you to sniff it.”

“Sorry for liking how you smell.” He looks up with a sharp, calculated look. “Can I like how you taste?”

“Will that shut you up?”

In response, Futakuchi slips the tip bouncing in front of his lips into his mouth, then slides straight down until his nose is back in the dark hair between Kamasaki’s legs. He jolts a little, as though struggling with his gag reflex, but his hands just tighten a little on Kamasaki’s thighs and he swallows.

Kamasaki groans, pulling on Futakuchi’s hair hard. Futakuchi jolts at that again, but this time with his own moan, one that reverberates along Kamasaki’s dick.

“Fucking _move_ ,” Kamasaki grits out.

There’s a tickling sensation along his dick that suggests Futakuchi is laughing, or at least doing his best to. He’s also not moving at all.

“You know,” Kamasaki breathes, “when I said you’d call me senpai and mean it, I meant, you know, some respect.”

Futakuchi swallows again, then pulls off slowly and torturously, forcing Kamasaki to pull his hair tighter to get him to move normally. “Respect, huh?” Futakuchi says, nibbling gently at the tip. “Weren’t you going to make me?”

Kamasaki squints down at him, shivering when Futakuchi slips his lips around the tip of Kamasaki’s dick again. “Fine,” he grumbles, strengthening the grip he has on Futakuchi’s hair so he can push his head down. “Fucking… fine. Don’t get mad if you choke.”

Futakuchi scoffs around his dick, sending sparks skittering through Kamasaki’s lower belly. He readjusts his legs so he can thrust into Futakuchi’s mouth as he pulls at his hair, forcing Futakuchi into a good rhythm. Futakuchi’s hands slide down to his calves to hold on tight, letting Kamasaki fuck into his mouth.

After they both grow accustomed to the new rhythm, one of his hands slides away from Kamasaki’s calf, and soon he’s moaning around Kamasaki’s cock as it pistons into his throat. Kamasaki’s fist tightens in Futakuchi’s hair, and at this point it’s got to be painful as shit, but Futakuchi only moves enough that he can get Kamasaki’s foot pressed to the base of his dick as he jerks himself off furiously.

Futakuchi comes first, free hand suddenly splaying against Kamasaki’s thigh, his groans reverberating around Kamasaki like a dream.

Kamasaki pulls out, letting Futakuchi slump onto his thigh, breathing heavily and watching Kamasaki reach up to finish himself off. He strokes his own dick in smooth, long strokes, until he’s coming as well, spraying hot and heavy onto Futakuchi’s face.

“Happy birthday,” Futakuchi says, still leaning his head onto Kamasaki’s thigh, cum dripping from his chin. “Senpai.”

“Close enough,” Kamasaki breathes.

“You gonna clean off your mess?” Futakuchi says.

Kamasaki groans and grabs his chin, dragging him up. “Not a word,” he mutters, laving his tongue along Futakuchi’s cheek. Futakuchi just grins at him, but to his credit, he does not, in fact, say anything.

-X-

Morning rolls around slowly on the 9th. The 9th is a dangerous day, right between their birthdays. Close enough to Kamasaki’s birthday that Futakuchi still does that thing where he annoys Kamasaki extra out of love and close enough to his own that he’s even more of a brat than usual.

Fortunately, Kamasaki wakes up well before Futakuchi does, so he has a moment of blissful silence before Futakuchi starts being a pain.

He shifts until he can see Futakuchi’s face, drooling onto his chest. They’re so tangled Kamasaki can hardly move, and when he shoves at Futakuchi, Futakuchi doesn’t even stir.

Typical. He’d probably stayed up late playing videogames before coming over and now Kamasaki is going to have to bear the pain of losing feeling in his entire right arm and below his left knee. Why is he even dating someone so _tall_?

Maybe that was to be expected, though, given that their entire team had revolved around being tall.

He sighs and lets Futakuchi sleep.

It’s only when he realizes he’d forgotten last night’s “clever ploy” that he realizes he could likely do a lot more than just wait for him to wake up. He sits up enough to pull one of the bigger pillows out from under himself, tugging the pillowcase off with one hand and his teeth. It’s a little harder to twist it into something like a rope, but he gets it eventually.

He has to slip out of bed and wrestle his arm away from Futakuchi in order to enact the second phase of his plan, but amazingly even that gets little more than a snore out of his clearly comatose boyfriend.

He wraps the pillowcase around Futakuchi’s wrists with some work and ties them as best he can. That seems to finally rouse Futakuchi, because he groans and blinks at Kamasaki, his bedhead wafting around him. “Are you finally murdering me?” Futakuchi asks, after a moment.

“Hah,” Kamasaki laughs, pushing Futakuchi onto his side. “You wish.”

“Oh, boy,” Futakuchi says, yawning. “Sounds very scary.”

“Hey, you wanted soft, sappy sex for your birthday,” Kamasaki says. “I’m just making sure you don’t back out.”

“Wait,” Futakuchi says. “Seriously? I told you that was a ruse.”

Kamasaki rummages in the drawer of the nightstand. “You sure did. And I’m calling your bluff.”

“What? Come on,” Futakuchi scoffs, but it sounds forced. “I said I had feelings. Do I look like a guy who has feelings?”

Kamasaki drops the lube beside him. “So you don’t want this?”

“Whatever,” Futakuchi says. “You can have your boring sex, but it’s for your birthday, not mine.”

“Ohhh, now it’s my birthday, huh?” Kamasaki says with a grin, clambering on top of Futakuchi.

“I wished you happy birthday yesterday,” Futakuchi says. Kamasaki can see the tiny, tiny blush from earlier. It’s so subtle and so, so cute. “It’s not like I’m suddenly changing my mind.”

“Uhuh,” Kamasaki says. “Sure. I’m pretty sure this is the _first time ever_ you’ve ever placed my birthday over yours.”

“I’m not being defensive,” Futakuchi mutters.

“You’re blushing.”

“No I’m not.”

“You are. It’s cute.”

“I’ve never blushed in my life.”

Kamasaki leans down and brushes their noses together. “Come on. Let me see a feeling, huh? For my birthday.”

“I would,” Futakuchi says, sighing dramatically. “But I have none.”

“Not even one?”

“Is spite a feeling?”

Kamasaki runs his nose along Futakuchi’s cheeks, nosing at his freckles. “Not a single feeling for me?”

“Again, is a spite a…”

Kamasaki kisses him, holding his cheek, and Futakuchi seems to be startled into returning it in full, meeting his lips with a warm sort of fervor. When Kamasaki pulls back, he’s blushing even more. “Look at that blush,” he laughs.

“That’s arousal, since you tied me up,” Futakuchi says. His efforts are flagging. It is still _both_ of their birthdays, after all. “I didn’t even know you were so kinky. I always figured you’d be the super, super straight-laced type. You know, a stick in the mud.”

Kamasaki grins, leaning on his hand as he pushes his elbow behind Futakuchi. “I should tie you up more often,” he says. “You’re a lot cuter when you’re backed into a corner.”

“Wow, I am just learning all about your kinks today,” Futakuchi says, but he’s blushing even more.

“You don’t know what to do when I’m just not mad at you, do you?” Kamasaki asks, and he’s rewarded with a delightfully cross and almost embarrassed look that goes well with the way Futakuchi is sprawled back into the pillows, hands up to his chest almost defensively. “This is hilarious. And adorable.”

“Shut up,” Futakuchi mutters, and Kamasaki chuckles and kisses him on the nose.

“I kinda just want to lay here and look at you,” Kamasaki says. Futakuchi glares at him. “But don’t worry. I know it’s your _birthday._ ”

He pushes himself up onto his hands and leans over Futakuchi, kissing him hard as he trails his hand down between his legs. Futakuchi is already half hard, and he sighs against Kamasaki’s lips when Kamasaki touches him.

He breaks away after a few pumps to Futakuchi’s cock, reaching for the lube. Futakuchi looks up at him, hunched and sort of dazed looking, as Kamasaki drizzles lube onto his fingers.

They’re both too impatient for this usually, so going all the way ends up reserved to when they’re both really fired up, which means Kamasaki doesn’t think he’s ever actually touched Futakuchi like this without having _just_ finished yelling at him or currently yelling at him.

Futakuchi seems to realize this as well, because he blinks at Kamasaki in confusion, then relaxes slowly.

Kamasaki just watches him, rubbing his finger over his hole distractedly.

“You ever going to get this show on the road orrrrr…?” Futakuchi drawls, but he’s blushing.

Taking pity on him, Kamasaki pushes one finger in, watching Futakuchi’s face. To be honest, he doesn’t mind how much they argue. Futakuchi is a smug bastard, but underneath it all he’s fun to be with and surprisingly reliable. They’ve gotten into this habit of constantly bickering, even when they’re just having a moment together.

That doesn’t mean this isn’t nice. A second to breathe and just be together, in the lazy morning sun, right between their birthdays.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Futakuchi mutters. “You’ll make me blush.”

“You’re already blushing,” Kamasaki says.

“Well, fuck,” Futakuchi says. “Then I guess you can keep doing it.”

Kamasaki laughs, pressing another finger into him.

Futakuchi lets out a tiny gasp, curving into the touch ever so slightly.

Kamasaki shifts so they’re nose to nose again, rubbing his fingers inside, looking for that spot. Futakuchi opens his mouth to sass him, but in the end he thinks better of it and closes his mouth again, instead just focusing his eyes on Kamasaki’s as well as he can.

Kamasaki knows he’s found his prostate when he brushes against it ever so slightly, because Futakuchi’s eyes flutter closed and he seems to melt into Kamasaki’s touch. “If I knew you’d be this adorable when I didn’t yell at you, I’d stop letting you rile me up all the time,” Kamasaki mutters.

“But I like riling you up,” Futakuchi says, peering at him through one cracked eyelid.

“Hm,” Kamasaki says, nuzzling at Futakuchi’s cheek. He likes when Futakuchi tries to rile him up, too, but it’s nice to be able to tease back for once. “Alright. I’ll yell at you tomorrow for your birthday.”

Futakuchi wrestles both eyes open to glare at him. “I like you better when you can’t keep up with me,” he mutters, yelping when Kamasaki shoves another finger in, wrapping an arm over his back to hold him close.

“You’re still a disrespectful little brat,” Kamasaki murmurs, kissing along the shell of Futakuchi’s ear.

“Thanks,” Futakuchi whispers back, shuddering when Kamasaki starts spreading his fingers, stretching him slowly. He leans down to kiss at Futakuchi’s neck, earning a shiver that makes him grin against the skin of Futakuchi’s shoulder. Futakuchi shoves at him with his bound wrists. “I’m ready already.”

Kamasaki slaps him over the head lightly, reaching for a condom. He rolls it on and lubes himself up, then watches Futakuchi’s face as he presses in. Futakuchi is blushing and he knows it, and the defensive look he shoots Kamasaki before finally giving in and throwing his head back to moan might be Kamasaki’s favorite thing in the world.

He slides his arms under Futakuchi’s knees and thrusts. Futakuchi groans, sitting up as much as he can in this position. “Your biceps look amazing like that,” he says, which is as honest a declaration as Kamasaki is going to get.

“Your freckles look great under that blush,” Kamasaki responds, slowly sliding into a comfortable rhythm.

Futakuchi sighs and falls back. “I never knew you were such a sap,” he says.

Kamasaki grins and fucks him a little harder.

It’s over a little too soon. They’re bad at timing this right, so Kamasaki comes first and has to jerk Futakuchi off after, but at least he can watch Futakuchi come, toes curling and dragging into the sheets as he curses and gasps.

After Kamasaki has made a nominal effort to get them both clean, he slumps down beside his boyfriend. “Happy birthday.”

“Your birthday,” Futakuchi says.

“I love you,” Kamasaki says.

There’s a long silence, Futakuchi’s face somewhere in his bicep. Then, he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “Me too.”

“What was that?” Kamasaki says with a grin, nudging Futakuchi’s arms aside so he can pin him down and lean over him.

“I,” Futakuchi says, brows furrowed, “have a feeling. For you.”

“Just the one?”

“Maybe two. Two feelings.”

Kamasaki unties his wrists and pulls him close. “Is one of those love?”

“No,” Futakuchi says, far too quickly.

“Uhuh,” Kamasaki says, rubbing Futakuchi’s arm, lazy and content.

“Anyway, for my birthday I want you to wear a maid uniform and call _me_ senpai,” Futakuchi says.

Kamasaki dumps him out of bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment or talk to me on [Tumblr](www.dgalerab.tumblr.com)


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